


Sick-day

by Brighid_the_Beta



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brighid_the_Beta/pseuds/Brighid_the_Beta
Summary: Pre-war stucky sick day drabble.Bucky takes care of Steve, to Steve's chagrin.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 27





	Sick-day

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in 20 mins at 10 pm so, don't judge too harshly.

Steve's been coughing and wheezing for hours by the time Bucky walks in the door, grease-stained and weary from a long day doing what Steve can't: providing. Steve isn't bitter about it anymore, at least not where Bucky can hear, but he's not gonna be more of a burden than he already is, so he swallows down the cough that's pushing at his lungs and smiles at Bucky as he sags through the door.

"Hey, Buck, how was work?"

"Same as usual, 'cept some guy got fired for filchin' packing tape, if you can believe it." Bucky slides his grimy hand through his hair, slick with pomade, and sighs. "I'm gonna try to wash up a little, alright Stevie?"

Steve nods, already turning to the sketchbook in his lap to try to give Bucky what privacy he can in their shoebox apartment. The bathroom is just a toilet, the sink in the kitchen their only source of running water, but there are shared showers on every other floor of the building, and they make do. 

_Sometimes it feels like my whole life will be making do_ , Steve thinks morosely, but he shakes his head at himself a few seconds later. _Probably just bein' sick makin' me so damn grouchy_ ,he thinks.

After Bucky's washed up enough to eat without poisoning himself, they sit down and eat their dinner, cold beans, it was the best they could get that week, in companionable silence. The thing about living so closely with someone, sharing everything with them, is that silence becomes comfortable, safe. And Steve and Bucky share everything. 

The quiet is broken by the hacking sound of Steve trying to hold in a cough. 

"You alright there, pal?" Bucky's eyes narrow as he moves closer, gently rubbing Steve's back as he regains his breath. "This a one-off or are you sick again."

"I'm fine Buck, quit motherin' me."

"I swear to god Steve..."

"I'm fine. Leave it alone."

Bucky does, reluctantly.

They crawl into bed together after washing the dishes and brushing their teeth, Bucky curling around Steve with a hand over his chest like he can protect Steve from illness just by loving him enough. Steve smiles to himself as he drifts off to the feather-light pressure of lips against the top of his head.

The next morning, Steve is burning up. He feels drained, and it hurts to breathe, let alone move enough to work on his commissions, but he's been through worse, and he's not gonna be a burden goddamnit.

The fever must be messing with his head though, because he doesn't think to question why Bucky hasn't mother henned him into staying in bed all day already before he gets to the living room and sees Bucky glowering at him. Bucky's holding his work sketchbook over his head, and he raises and eyebrow at Steve as he shivers, teeth chattering. "You're not working today."

"C'mon Buck--"

"I said no. I would stay home too, but I can't miss any more work this month or we'll be behind on rent." 

"Which is why I need to work today! Lemme have it, c'mon." Steve wraps an arm around Bucky's waist, kissing his neck to distract him as he tries to reach the book with the other arm.

Bucky shakes Steve off easily, saying angrily, "You know what, I think I am gonna stay home today, I'll pick up an extra shift next week." With that, he leaves to find the payphone accross the street to call his boss, Steve standing dumbstruck in his wake, staring at the slammed door.

By the time Bucky gets back, he's in less of a snit. Steve's cocooned himself in their ratty blanket on their terrible couch, holding a mug of hot water and breathing in the steam as he peers apologetically up through his lashes at Bucky.

Bucky sighs and kneels on the floor in front of him, looking earnestly up into his face. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I just want you to be healthy and happy, and you're so goddamn stubborn sometimes--"

"You love it," Steve grumbles into his mug, pouting.

"Yeah I do, babycakes," Bucky smirks, sliding his hands up Steve's legs to rest on his waist, leaning up to press a kiss to a cheek ruddy with fever. "God Steve, you're burning up, let's get you to bed, huh? Sleep it off, yeah?"

Huffing, Steve shuffles with Bucky's help to the bedroom, and the two of them spend the day curled together, sharing warmth and sweet nothings under the blankets. Steve can't help but think to himself as he watches Bucky stretch to reach the pans on the top cabinet for supper, " _If I could marry this man, I would. For the rest of our lives, Buck. Till the end of the line, I love you._ "


End file.
